


Wingmen and Widows

by stfustucky (iwillpaintasongforlou)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Oral Sex, Shrunkyclunks, bucky barnes is hella thirsty, bucky is also a gentleman, but kind of an idiot, cap!steve - Freeform, chapter 1 is basically nat being a badass and bucky being terrified of her, honestly nat is lowkey stalking them, in which nat is all of us and all of us are nat, modern!Bucky, she ships it so hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-13 08:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/stfustucky
Summary: Former spec ops Bucky Barnes finds himself in the good graces of Natasha Romanoff --AKA Black Widow-- one night, when he mistakenly tries to protect her from some creeps in a dark alley. She definitely doesn't need his help, but she does know a certain tall blonde and handsome superhero named Steve that would be charmed by that sort of chivalry, and she makes it her mission to get the two together. Seriously, everyone needs a bro like Natasha.(featuring Bucky and Nat as the world's most dangerous pair of besties, Nat as a meddling matchmaker, Bucky as a man so thirsty he must be dying of dehydration, and Steve as the world's biggest meatball. So basically, the canon.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk what this is but I know I'm not sorry about it 
> 
> stfustucky | tumblr

If Bucky Barnes had any friends, they would almost certainly tell him that he was being a creep right now.

Bucky did not have any friends, however, which meant that he was free to sit at his table in the back corner of the bar and sip his drink and downright ogle the cute blonde guy at the bar. He was six feet and 200 pounds of stunning, and that wasn’t just the several cocktails in Bucky’s belly talking. There was something about the way he grinned, or maybe the way he leaned against the bar like he was simultaneously oblivious to the effect he had on people and yet flawlessly confident in himself. It made Bucky ravenous.

“Alright soldier, dial it back, there,” Bucky grumbled at himself. “Let’s not get carried away.” After all, it’s not like he had the balls to go up and talk to the guy. Under normal circumstances, sure, Bucky knew how to turn on the charm for a looker at the bar. But this guy was a solid 10, way out of Bucky’s league, and he was surrounded by a group of friends who would probably laugh their asses off if Bucky tried to hit on the guy.

So that was a no. He’d like to keep his dignity, thanks.

Bucky was content to sit and sip his drink and silently thirst over the one he’d named Handsome Bar Guy, running scenarios in his head of how he could make the colloquial ‘climb him like a tree’ into a reality. If anyone had been paying Bucky any attention, he’d probably have looked like a major weirdo, but no one ever paid Bucky any mind. He had too many years of stealth training under his belt for that, and everything from the table he picked and the angle of his chair to the color of his shirt was carefully calculated to make eyes slide right off him. 

The group of friends appeared to be saying their goodbyes, much to Bucky’s dismay, HBG and his companions exchanging hugs and fist bumps and trailing out one by one. There was only one of the group left, a slender redheaded woman who’d had several of what appeared to be vodka and tonics since Bucky had been watching. She waved goodbye to the others and kept nursing her drink while she scrolled instagram on her phone.

Bucky assumed that someone else was coming to meet her, or else she would have left with her friends. He wasn’t really interested, not really, now that HBG had tragically left. That bright red hair kept snagging his attention every time his eyes scanned the room in one of his habitual sweeps, though, so he found himself noticing her continued solidarity despite himself. It was unusual, was all.

He didn’t really start to get concerned, however, until she threw some cash on the bar and hopped down off of her stool, making a beeline for the exit. Bucky was angling himself to watch her exit through the slats of some nearby blinds before he could even register the actions. He was just going to keep an eye out to make sure she got into her Uber safely. It was a crazy city, New York, full of a lot of fucked up people. Humankind had to look out for one another.

But, Bucky discovered as he peered through the window overlooking the street, the mysterious woman wasn’t waiting for a ride at all. She was setting off down the sidewalk on foot. Alone, unarmed, at one o’clock in the morning, after having multiple drinks, as an attractive woman in New York City. Apparently, one with a death wish.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky swore, taking out a few bills and dropping them on the table and quickly proceeding to the exit. It isn’t his business, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel like it would be indecent of him to let a defenseless woman go wandering off into the night without someone to watch out for her. Her friends were fucking assholes, HBG included, for having left her there alone. Where was the decency in ditching your friend at a bar when she clearly isn’t capable of defending herself and not even making sure she has a safe way home?

If Bucky ever saw HBG again, he’d give him a talking to. He’d still definitely suck the guy’s dick, but afterwards there would be words exchanged, for sure.

He kept a careful distance behind the woman, keeping to the shadows and using all of his covert training to make sure he wasn’t spotted. He was well aware that following a woman out of a bar was full creeper behavior, thank you. At least he was an innocuous creeper. Someone else might not be.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long for a group of men smoking on a street corner to see her walking by and start nudging each other with interest. There are three of them, late 20s, caucasian, average height, between 140 and 160 pounds each, seemingly unarmed. The way their eyes lingered on her body though, that was threatening enough. And when they ground out their cigarettes on the pavement and began to follow her, Bucky knew this was about to become a whole situation.

He kept his distance still, not wanting to give up the advantage of his stealth before he had a solid reason to kick their asses. Technically they hadn’t done anything wrong yet, and Bucky was a somewhat civilized human being who knew what boundaries were. He’d be patient and wait until they crossed the line, and then hand them their spleens.

Wouldn’t Ma be so proud?

The woman took a sudden turn into an alley, because wow, she really did have a death wish. The three men followed her into the narrow space, and Bucky picked up his pace. He could hear catcalls starting, a few sleazy variations of hey baby, what are you doing out here so late? echoing loudly in the quiet night. Bucky was jogging by the time he reached the corner and hurtled around it, barking out a gratifyingly scary sounding “Hey!”

He had a really good speech lined up about how he didn’t care for assholes who try to corner women in dark alleys and how they could either fuck off or Bucky could make them. Like seriously, it was a very good speech. Nice and scary, like the Liam Neeson monologue from Taken. You could probably put decent money on at least one of the guys peeing their pants, hearing that sort of speech from a guy who’s resting face is rather murdery and whose murdery face is just horrifying.

He never got to use it, though, because the second those guys’ heads whipped around to look at Bucky, the woman leapt into action.

It was over in seconds. There was a brief flurry of flying hands and feet and locks of ruby red hair, so fast that even Bucky’s combat-trained eyes couldn’t follow all the movements, and then there were three unconscious men on the pavement between Bucky and the woman.

Bucky had the brief and irrational thought that he kind of wanted to marry this woman, but he was fairly certain that was just the terror talking.

The woman gracefully stepped over one of the bodies, careful not to put her stiletto down in a puddle of what was either blood or unidentified alley sludge. Bucky took a step back on instinct, and the movement seemed to draw her eyes. She looked up at Bucky with a delicately arched eyebrow.

“So,” she began calmly, her voice low and even, “are you gonna be a moron and try something, or did you learn your lesson from watching them?”

There were probably good responses out there. Bucky could think of zero of them. “I... what?”

She seemed patient with his struggling brain cells, at least. She probably got that a lot. “You've been following me since I left the bar.”

Bucky was bristling immediately. “What the hell? How could you have seen me? I used to be special ops, no one sees me.”

“Don't feel bad, sweetie, I eat spec ops for breakfast,” the woman purred, and Bucky suppressed a shudder because uh, he kind of believed her. “So, back to my question, are you gonna be a moron and try to put your hands on me, or do you prefer your hands unmangled?”

Her meaning finally sunk in, and Bucky scowled at the implication. “Jesus, wait, no, I wasn't following you so I could-- that. I saw your friends leave you at the bar and I was worried about your safety walking home alone. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just wanted to watch your six for you.”

“Do I look like I need protection to walk home at night?”

“Well not now, but I didn’t exactly know that when I saw you walk off on your own,” Bucky grumbled. “It seemed the decent thing to do.”

The woman stalked closer. Bucky thought stalked because that’s exactly what the walk was, a predator approaching prey. She stopped a mere two feet in front of Bucky. “What's your name?”

Honestly, he didn’t even consider lying. “James Barnes. Bucky.”

She nodded, like not every answer would have been acceptable but this one, at least, was. “I like you, Bucky. You're sweet. We're friends now. Come eat a greasy burger with me.”

And just like that, she linked her arm through his and led him from the alley and back onto her original course. “O...kay?” Bucky managed after a minute, too stunned at the change in tone --and too relieved to still have all his dangly bits attached to his body-- to argue with her. “Thanks, I guess. What’s your name?”

“You can call me Nat.”

She said it like she had a lot of names. Bucky didn’t pry. People with many names usually didn’t like talking about them, and Bucky’s sense of self-preservation was strong enough to motivate him to respect that. “Nice to meet you, Nat. Who trained you?”

“Oh all kinds of crazy bastards from here to Siberia. Seriously, don’t be offended that I made you. It was a good tail. I’m just a lot better than ‘good.’”

“I never even saw you look backwards,” Bucky mumbled with reverence.

“Looking back is for amateurs, darling.”

It was only a few minutes of walking later that they came upon a 24-hour diner that had apparently been Nat’s destination all along. She picked the booth with the best sightlines, glaring down the waitress who tried to seat them elsewhere, and proceeded to order a variety of greasy foods and a carafe of black coffee. Bucky ordered the same, and raised an eyebrow at Nat. “I feel like you ought to need food for sobering, considering how much you drank tonight, but you don’t even seem like you’re drunk. What, was it all tonic and no vodka?”

“I don’t drink vodka and tonics.”

“Then what were you drinking?”

“Just straight vodka.”

Well then.

Nat’s apparent alcohol immunity aside, Bucky apparently did need to sober up, though. After a little time and a couple of sliders gulped down in between gaps in conversation, the gears in his brain started turning better and he cocked his head curiously at Nat. “You seem familiar. Have I seen you before?”

“Almost certainly.”

“Have we met?”

“Maybe, I’ve met a lot of people in a lot of high stress situations.”

“Oh god,” Bucky said, dread taking over him. “Did I sleep with you back in my straight experimentation days?”

“You’d definitely remember me if you had,” Nat answered coolly, winking at Bucky. “But no. Do you want a hint? Picture me in an all black catsuit.”

Bucky was about to reiterate that his wildly unsuccessful straight phase was definitely over and that sort of imagery wasn’t going to do anything for him, when all of a sudden things clicked. A woman named Nat in a black catsuit. Natasha Romanoff. A.K.A. the fucking Black Widow.

“Holy shit, you look different in civilian clothes.”

“It’s amazing what a mini skirt can do to distract people from your actual identity.”

More processing, and the realizations kept coming. “The people who were with you at the bar, your friends. They were your team? The other Avengers?”

“Yes.”

“So the tall blonde beefcake you were with, that was…”

Nat sipped her coffee, unbothered. “Steve Rogers, A.K.A. Captain America, yes. You're lucky he's an idiot, by the way, because your staring was very unsubtle. If he had two brain cells to rub together in the social skills area, he would have noticed you drooling. And your face was super embarrassing, trust me.”

Bucky spluttered, coughing a little as a piece of omelette went down his windpipe. “S-staring?” he gasped. “I wasn't--”

“You were and you were terrible at it.” Nat smiled at him, not unkindly, and handed him a napkin to dab at the tears leaking out of his eyes from the coughing fit. “But don't worry, I happen to know that muscled brunettes with hearts of gold are exactly his type. I'll set you two up if you promise not to make that weird, drooly face again.”

He took the napkin, but ignored it in favor of gawking at Nat. “Seriously? You would do that for me? Why? You barely know me.”

“I already told you, we're best friends now,” Nat stated calmly. “That's what best friends do. Also, Steve is wound tighter than the recoil spring in that 9mm handgun you have tucked in your boot. He needs to get laid. We, as a nation, need Steve to get laid.”

Bucky flexed his ankle, feeling the comfortable weight of his definitely not at all visible piece against the joint, and grinned across the table at this whirlwind of a woman. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ve always been a patriot.”

Nat raised her coffee mug and clinks it against Bucky’s in a gentle cheers. “Your country thanks you for your service.”

Yeah, Bucky could get used to a friend like that.

…………………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stay tuned to watch Natasha risk life and limb to get Bucky a date with his favorite superbae
> 
> stfustucky | tumblr


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey Rogers. Whatcha doin?”

Steve looked over the top of his tablet at Natasha with a sense of dread deep in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help it. He knew the twinkle in Natasha's eye that meant she was up to something, and anyone with any sense knew to be scared of Natasha Romanoff when she was up to something.

“What do you want?” he asked, perhaps more gruffly than was necessary. He narrowed his eyes at Natasha's clearly fake expression of affront.

“God, what, did you leave your manners in the 20th century?” she scoffed. “I expect better from you, Steve.”

She was only teasing, but Steve could feel the ghost of Sarah Rogers smacking him in the back of the head just the same. He decided to try again. “Good morning, Natasha. I'm reading some international news articles on that application you showed me. Now, what do you want?”

“Bold of you to assume I want something from you.”

Steve answered with silence and a raised eyebrow.”

“Actually, I'm here to give you something. Namely, a phone number.”

And there it was. Steve hit the lock button on the tablet and tossed it aside with a groan. “Nat. Please. Not this again. I love you to pieces, but not this again.”

“Yes, this again, since you rejected the last three people I set you up with.”

“And you take that as encouragement that you should try again?”

Natasha looked at him as if he’d just asked her whether she thought the sky was blue. “Of course, idiot. You're doing a shitty job of managing your own love life, so clearly you need me to do it for you.”

“I'm not interested,” Steve said firmly. He stood from the couch and tried to walk away, both from Nat and from the conversation.

He was unsuccessful in both endeavors. “You'll like this one, Steve, he’s a great guy,” Nat said from just behind him as he made off down the hall.

 _That_ caught Steve's attention, and he had to exert a lot of willpower not to literally freeze in his tracks. Everyone Nat had ever tried to set him up with before had been a woman. Which made sense, since Steve had never told anyone he was bisexual.

“How did you know?” Steve asked quietly.

“You must be confused about who I am,” Natasha snorted. She jogged a bit to get in front of Steve and turned around to walk backwards before him, offering her hand for a shake. “Hey, I'm Natasha, deadly super spy. I know everything about you, especially the things you don't want me to know. Nice to meet you.”

Well _there_ was an introduction to haunt a man's nightmares.

“I'm sure whoever he is, he’s very nice, but no thanks.”

“Here, let me show you a picture. He’s gorgeous, honestly--”

“Nat, _no.”_

Natasha pulled up short, forcing Steve to do the same. All of the playfulness had gone from her expression, and she looked at him seriously now. “Is it because he’s a man?” Nat asked quietly, gently. “I got the sense you weren't exclusively attracted to women, but I know you come from a different time. If I'm wrong, or if it's too soon, just tell me. It isn't my place to push anyone out of the closet before they're ready.”

“It's not that,” Steve sighed. “You're right, I am bisexual. I was back then, too, even if it wasn't the sort of thing I'd go admitting to anybody. And I know things are different now, and I'm free to date any kind of person I want.”

“Okay.” Nat nodded. “But?”

“But the idea of going on a date with someone I've never met before, without knowing what they're like, it's not something that appeals to me.” Steve swallowed, embarrassed. “I don't know, maybe I'm just a stupid romantic, but I always imagined that when the right person came along, I’d just know. I always pictured it happening... organically. That’s important to me.”

Natasha searched Steve's face for a long, quiet moment, then nodded once more. “Okay.”

Somehow, that one word managed to be one of the most terrifying things Steve had ever heard her say. Possibly the most terrifying thing he’d ever heard _anyone_ say, and he’d heard a lot of rants from a lot of super villains. Natasha Romanoff didn’t let go of things this easily, ever. “O...kay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Natasha confirmed. “I hear you, loud and clear.”

“‘Okay’ as in you’ll stop meddling in my love life?”

“‘Okay’ as in I'll never try to get you to agree to another blind date again, I promise,” Natasha nodded, leaning up to give Steve a kiss on the cheek. “You'll bump into your right person one of these days, Steve. I believe that.”

Oddly enough, Steve didn't really feel comforted by the words. Natasha had that sort of effect on people.

…………………

“You really know how to rip a man's heart from his chest, Natasha.”

“Several different methods, depending on how messy you wanna get,” Natasha answered smoothly. “In this case, though, I think you're being a little dramatic.”

“I'm not dramatic, I'm heartbroken,” Bucky said with a groan. “You told me you were going to get me a date with Steve Rogers, and yet here I am, on Friday night, hanging out with you and eating Thai food. I should be hanging out with Steve Rogers and eating his ass, Natasha. It's my God-given right.”

“You have so little faith in me, Barnes. I'll get you where you need to go, don't worry,” Nat assured him with a roll of her eyes. “I'm already making progress. I now have confirmation that he _is_ attracted to men.”

Bucky shot her a disbelieving look. “You went and promised me a date before you even knew he was gay?”

“Bisexual, actually,” Natasha corrected. “And I had my suspicions, which is more than enough. My suspicions are never wrong.”

Bucky could hardly argue with that. “Well, lucky for me I'm an optimist. As long as he likes the D, I can keep hope alive.”

“I never leave a mission unfinished, darling, you can have faith in that alone.” Natasha wiped her mouth with a napkin and glanced at her watch. “It's time to go.”

“What, are we on a schedule?” Bucky scoffed, but he cleaned up his place at the table anyways. They had been sitting in the restaurant for the better part of an hour now, sampling a smorgasbord of Thailand's delights, and Bucky had reached his bursting point long ago.

“Something like that,” Natasha hummed.

They both left enough cash on the table to cover their half of the meal plus a tip, and stood in unison to make their way to the door. Bucky went first, taking a moment to scan the street for anything suspicious as he held the door for Nat. He saw her eyes scan the street in much the same manner before she hid them behind a pair of oversized sunglasses. “I don't know why I let you pick that place,” he complained idly as they set off.

“Because you're smart enough to know not to argue with me,” answered Natasha.  She glanced at her watch again. Wherever she was leading Bucky next, they must be running late for it. “I thought you liked Thai food?”

“Yeah, but it always gives me indigestion. Next time I pick the place.”

Nat nodded magnanimously, turning her head both ways to check traffic as they came to a crosswalk. “I might allow it. Where would you have picked?”

“I'm always down for a Big Mac.”

“Seriously, Barnes?” Nat turned around to walk backwards so that she could arch her eyebrows at Bucky over those ridiculously large sunglasses. _“That's_ what you would pick? McDonald's? Why would you pick a fast food place when you have all the delicious cuisines of the world to choose from right here in New York City?”

She flung one arm out as if to include all of New York in her gesture. Bucky's eyes instinctively followed the motion, which is why he happened to be looking down the street to Natasha's left when he saw the threat coming. It was a motorcycle, hurtling towards them, and time seemed to slow down as Bucky's brain started doing calculations.

He looked at the bike, looked at where Nat was standing in the crosswalk, looked at the rate of speed of both of them, and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. They were going to collide.

His body was moving before his brain had time to catch up with the impending horror. Three powerful strides and Bucky’s shoulder was crashing into Natasha's chest, the force of the impact driving her out of the crosswalk and sending her careening towards the sidewalk beyond. Behind them there was a horrible screeching of tires, and then Bucky's whole side was lighting up with pain as he twisted to use his body to shield Natasha from impact with the pavement.

“Motherfucking _ouch,”_ Bucky said eloquently.

His eyes were still swimming with tears when a shadow suddenly blocked out the light from the fading sunset. “Someone call a paramedic,” a deep, smooth voice shouted, though the street had been empty. “Are you two alright? Are you hurt? I'm so sorr-- wait, _Nat?”_

“God, Rogers, I should have known that it was you trying to kill me. Is it because you're trying to recruit that spider kid onto the team? There's no ‘one in, one out’ policy on the Avengers, you know that, right?”

Bucky forced his eyes open to take a look at the newcomer, and would have laughed if he hadn’t had the breath just knocked out of him. Kneeling over them, looking guilty and confused, was Steve Rogers. He had a motorcycle helmet dangling from one hand, and his jaw dangling down from the rest of his face.

“Are you crazy?” he was asking Nat, looking around him like he expected a bunch of cameramen to jump out and tell him he’d been punked. “What in the hell are you doing walking out in front of traffic?”

Natasha sat up gracefully, not bothering to use anything but her stomach muscles and not looking disheveled in the least. _Asshole._ “What are you doing flying down the street on that motorcycle, Steven?”

“I wasn’t flying,” Steve protested. “I was-- okay, so maybe I was speeding a little. But I go down this street every day around this time and there’s never any pedestrians!”

“Do you really?” Nat asked breezily, and Bucky’s eyes narrowed into slits. Something fishy was going on here. Bucky would bet his left nut on it, and the left one was his favorite so that was saying something.

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Steve breathed, a little shakily. “That was a close one.”

“You should be thanking this guy,” Nat said, jerking a thumb over at where Bucky was still sprawled half in the street, wheezing as air started finding its way into his lungs again. “He’s the one who pushed me out of the way. You should buy this nice stranger dinner or something, for saving you from being haunted by the ghost of Natasha Romanoff for the rest of your life.”

Steve shuddered at the thought, then turned to look at Bucky. “I’m so sorry sir, thank you for--” He stopped short, mouth snapping closed as he got a good look at Bucky for the first time. Those blue eyes went wide, and a faint blush tinted his cheeks pink. A lock of messy blonde hair flopped down into his eyes, and he didn’t brush it away. “Uh, hi.”

Bucky was glad he could breathe again, so that he could hit Steve with a brilliant reply. “Er, hi.”

“You saved my friend,” Steve said dazedly. “I almost hit her with my bike, but you saved her life.”

“Looks that way,” Bucky answered diplomatically. He still had his suspicions, which he would definitely be bringing up with Nat later. “No big deal.”

Steve was still leaning over Bucky as he laid on his back on the ground, and Bucky’s dick was starting to take an unhealthy interest in the visual of Steve Rogers on top of him. Luckily, Steve ruined it by looking shocked and offended. “Is _is_ a big deal!” he said firmly. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

 _You could put your dick inside me,_ Bucky’s brain helpfully supplied. Bucky told it to hush.

“Again, thank you dinners are pretty common things,” Natasha suggested. “That’s a thing that people do.”

“I do like to eat,” Bucky added, nodding.

“Me too,” Steve breathed, then flushed a darker red. “I mean, I would like to do that too. Take you out to dinner. To thank you, and stuff.”

“Yeah,” Bucky grinned, “okay. Let’s do dinner.”

They both grinned at each other for a moment before Natasha cleared her throat. “Are you gonna help our hero off the pavement, Rogers, or what?”

“God, right, of course, let me just--” The next thing Bucky knew, a strong arm had slipped beneath his shoulders and Steve was hoisting him up off the ground and into a standing position.

The ease with which Steve lifted him despite Bucky’s muscular build definitely did _not_ go straight to Bucky’s dick. Likewise, the wobble in his knees was totally _not_ a swoon. “Whoa there, you alright?” Steve asked with evident concern, his grip tightening around Bucky’s waist to keep him upright. “Are you hurt?”

“Just a little tingly,” Bucky replied. His voice was _not_ a squeak, but a very firm and masculine tone.

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Tingly?”

“Yeah, from the… from the hitting the pavement thing. You know, tingles and all. That’s normal, probably.”

“Probably,” Steve said, but he was still grinning like he knew the truth. _The bastard._ “Feel free to take a minute to get your feet under you.”

Bucky allowed himself exactly eight seconds to stand there in Steve’s arms like a damsel in distress before his pride took over and he stepped back. Eight seconds were not enough to fully soak in the feel of all that power pressed up against him, but Bucky was a patient man. He could play it cool. Ish.

“Thanks, I feel better now.” _Lies, he felt like he needed Steve’s hand down his pants._ “I should uh, go.” _True, before he lost the remaining dregs of his pride._

“Right, yeah, me too,” Steve said, backing a few steps away and shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I’ll, uh, see you at dinner,” he said as he reached the place where he’d abandoned his bike in the road.

“I look forward to it,” Bucky answered, throwing Steve his most charming smile.

“Steve,” Natasha sighed, and it sounded like years of pent up exhaustion and exasperation in her voice. “Aren’t you going to give your number to his nice gentleman? You know, so that you can actually text him and make plans for this dinner you’re taking him out for?”

“Right, yeah, of course,” Steve said with a flush. “That’s important. I should do that.”

Bucky took out his phone --thankfully in the pocket that _hadn’t_ been slammed into the pavement-- and offered it to Steve to enter his number into. He let his eyes flick over to Nat in the meantime. He saw her roll her eyes at the sky and mouth something that looked like _‘this fucking meatball.’_

Steve texted himself from Bucky’s phone, which, he had Captain America’s number now, _that_ was a thing. Then he was getting back on his motorcycle, kicking the engine back to life, and giving Bucky one last smile before he put his helmet back on and drove off.

Bucky waited until he’d disappeared around a corner to turn on Natasha. “You’re a sneaky little bastard. That all went according to your plan, didn’t it?”

“Not really,” Natasha frowned. “I expected him to offer me a ride back to the tower. You must have got him more flustered than I anticipated. What, does he just expect me to get an Uber back to Manhattan? Rude.”

“Natasha,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you can’t just go around jumping in front of moving vehicles so you can play matchmaker. That’s not normal. You could have died, and I’m going to look like an eggplant on the whole left half of my body by tomorrow.”

“Look, he wanted a meet-cute, so I gave him one.” Natasha shrugged. “I know he always drives this way at 7:24 PM, and I knew you’d see him coming and push me out of the way like the charming hero you are. He sees you looking dashing and acting like a knight in shining armor, turns into a great big pile of heart-eyes supersoldier mush, and has a great excuse to ask you out without overthinking it. You have a date with Steve Rogers now, so are you really complaining?”

Bucky was silent, both because he was horrified that she’d formulated this whole plan, and because it had worked so perfectly, and because she was a hundred percent right. He wasn’t going to be looking that gift horse in the mouth any time soon.

“That’s what I thought,” Nat confirmed with a nod, flicking her long red hair over one shoulder and giving Bucky a pat on the cheek. “You’ll be alright, big guy. And with any luck, by this time next week you’ll know how Steve Rogers tastes.”

She started to walk away, down the street towards god knows what. It was several long moments before Bucky’s dick felt ready to allow him to walk, but he took off after her just as soon as he was able. She was an absolute maniac, and Bucky was prepared to follow her just about anywhere.

Next time he was letting her get hit, though. Just sayin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because I feel strongly that if Natasha decided to interfere in your love life she would either get you the person of your dreams OR get you killed. one or the other. there is no in between.
> 
> tune in next time to see if Steve and Bucky can manage to go on a date like normal, functional people without Natasha's interference. spoiler alert: no
> 
> stfustucky | tumblr


	3. Chapter 3

_ So, turns out I almost killed you yesterday and never even got your name _

Bucky grinned down at the text message that had popped up on his screen overnight. Technically, it had popped up at 6:03 AM, because apparently Steve Rogers was a) the kind of crazy bastard who got up at 6 AM on a Saturday and b) thinking of Bucky first thing in the morning. Bucky, being a sane person, didn’t see it until he rolled out of bed at noon.

Bucky promised nothing.

It wasn’t long before they had the details for their dinner ironed out, with Bucky planning to meet Steve at some restaurant in Manhattan later that night. He’d been willing to play it cool and pretend like he had a social life and couldn’t go out until later that week, but Steve had stepped right up and said he was free at a moment’s notice on a Saturday night, so hell, not like he’d judge Bucky for the same.

(Not that it would have mattered if Bucky  _ did  _ have plans. Dinner with Steve Rogers was a ‘clear your calendar’ type of event.)

If anyone asked, Bucky absolutely did not spend an hour in front of the mirror trying to decide what to wear, nor did he bother putting that fancy product in his hair for the first time since Becca got it for him two Christmases ago. And he definitely didn’t spend the subway ride googling things to talk about on a first date. If anyone asked, Bucky rolled out of bed looking flawless and feeling confident because he was a grown-ass man who didn’t get nervous about having dinner with someone attractive.

Steve was leaning casually against the wall outside the restaurant when Bucky walked up, his face angled away from the light and his shoulders hunched in a way that made him appear smaller. Watching him, it struck Bucky that it wasn’t really all that surprising that he’d escaped Bucky’s recognition in that bar, motivational posters notwithstanding. Steve Rogers wasn’t too shabby at pretending not to be Captain America.

“Hey there,” Bucky called from a few feet away, and Steve’s head lifted to give Bucky a beaming grin. The force of it almost made Bucky stumble. “You haven’t been waiting on me for too long, have you?”

“Bucky, hey,” Steve replied, almost breathlessly. “No, no, not at all. I got here a little early thinking there would be a crowd, but turns out Nat made us a reservation. We can go sit whenever you’re ready, actually.”

“Lead the way, then.” Steve flashed another smile and Bucky followed him into the restaurant. The hostess led them to a table in the back near the emergency exit, and Bucky scanned the room as they went. The place was definitely busy but not overly loud, with soft lighting coming from little lamps on each table. It was all very… romantic.

_ Very subtle, Natasha. _

Bucky waited until they were both seated and handed their menus and left alone by the hostess to clear his throat awkwardly and throw Steve a sheepish grin. “Look, I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?” Steve was frozen in the middle of opening his menu, eyes suddenly wary on Bucky’s face. “Please tell me you’re not Hydra or something.”

“God no, nothing like that,” Bucky said with an awkward laugh. “It’s about this dinner, and that whole thing with the motorcycle. It, uh, it wasn’t really an accident.”

“It wasn’t-- what?”

“Natasha is a friend of mine, and set the whole thing up. Pulled a fake damsel in distress act so that I’d push her out of the way and we’d have an opportunity to meet.” Bucky’s face was red, he knew it. This is why he wasn’t a spy. Having a poker face was not his forte. “She was trying to play matchmaker. I had my suspicions when I saw it was you on the bike, but I wasn’t sure until I confronted her after. She played us both.”

There was a long, breathless moment in which Steve stared blankly at Bucky and Bucky stared back, waiting for Steve to get pissed off and storm out of the restaurant. Instead, Steve just let the menu fall to the table so he could sink his face into his hands. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Not if I get to her first.”

“I’m so sorry she dragged you into this,” Steve sighed, rubbing his temples. “This is so embarrassing. She’s been trying to set me up on a date since-- well, pretty much since they defrosted me. I didn’t realize she would go to such great lengths to do it, though. I’ll tell her to leave you alone, I swear.”

“Hey now, let’s not get carried away,” Bucky said lightly, trying to sound way less invested than he actually was. “She may be insane, but the outcome is pretty great. You, me, a nice restaurant… there are worse ways to spend a Saturday night.”

Steve lifted his head and searched Bucky’s face. “You’re not mad?”

“It’s probably mostly my fault anyways,” confessed Bucky with a shrug. “She knew I thought you were gorgeous. Of course she’d interpret that to mean ‘please risk your life to get me a date with him.’”

That made Steve throw his head back and laugh, a little too loud for the quiet room. Maybe he realized that, because in the next second he was back to ducking his head and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. “Sounds like Natasha.”

“I’m starting to realize that friendship with her is not for the faint at heart.”

“Hardly.” Steve flicked his eyes up toward Bucky, his smile twisting into a little frown. “So this  _ was _ a date, then. I knew I should have brought flowers. I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if this was like a date dinner or just a casual ‘sorry for almost killing you’ dinner, so I didn’t get flowers just in case you weren’t interested and that made things weird. I’m normally much more of a gentleman, I’m sorry--”

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Bucky interrupted with a wink. “You can make it up to me and bring me flowers on the second date instead.”

“Second date?” Steve grinned.

“I’ve got a hunch,” Bucky shrugged lightly. He sat up straighter and offered his hand across the table for a shake. “Why don’t we start over? Hey, I’m Nat’s friend Bucky. I think you’re hot, wanna go on a date with me?”

Steve took Bucky’s hand shook it, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m Steve, and I think you’re stunning. Let’s do dinner.”

Yeah, Bucky was toast.

………………… 

Steve answered the phone a heartbeat before it went to voicemail. The only reason he answered it at all was because it was Natasha’s contact pic that flashed up on the screen, and the woman was relentless when she thought people were screening her calls. If Steve didn’t pick up, she’d just keep calling until either he answered or she arrived at his front door.

“Hello?”

_ “Hey, Rogers, what’s shakin’?” _

“What do you want, Natasha?”

_ “Ouch. You really know how to make a girl feel loved. You’ve got to stop with that, you’re going to damage my self-confidence.” _

“An AK-47 couldn’t damage your self-confidence. And I’ll stop being suspicious of you when you stop interfering with my love life, how’s that?”

Natasha laughed, clear and melodious.  _ “So I guess Bucky spilled the beans about my master plan?” _

“He did, yeah. I should have guessed.” Steve arranged his face into a carefully neutral expression, because he assumed that Natasha would somehow still be able to sense his tells even through the phone when he lied. “Naturally I ended things right then and there.”

_ “Oh you did, did you?” _

“Yup.”

_ “You didn’t go through with the date tonight?” _

“Nope.”

_ “You didn’t enjoy an enchanting evening in the perfect restaurant with the perfect man on a perfect date that I set up for you?” _

Steve was beginning to get a sinking feeling in his gut that his attempt to bluff wasn’t going as flawlessly as he’d hoped. “Uh… no?”

_ “Oh, Steve,” _ Natasha sighed,  _ “you poor, simple meatball. Now you really are hurting my feelings. It’s like you don’t know me at all.” _

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

_ “Of course I surveilled your date, moron, how could you think any less of me? I watched you guys make heart eyes at each other for three hours straight and then leave together. Say hi to Bucky for me, by the way. I assume he’s there with you right now, probably with your dick in his mouth.” _

Bucky’s eyes locked with Steve’s from his location between Steve’s thighs.

“No he’s not,” Steve started to lie, at the same time Bucky pulled off Steve’s cock with a telltale slurp and said, “And you decided to call and interrupt?”

_ “Not like I had a choice, Barnes, considering that you were rude enough to not even send me a text update about how the date went.” _

“The date isn’t over yet, Natasha,” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes. “This phone call is though, goodnight.” He reached up and plucked the phone from Steve’s hand, ending the call and tossing it carelessly onto the mattress beside Steve. “I swear she’s worse than my mother. Now where were we?”

It was very hard for Steve to concentrate with the way that Bucky was mouthing at the soft skin on the inside of his thighs, but he gave it his best shot. “I can’t believe you just hung up on her. She’s going to kill you in your sleep, you know.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to the underside of Steve’s cock. “Worth it.”

“And then she’ll kill me too, for good measure.”

“I’ll make sure it’s worth your while, too,” Bucky returned, taking the length into his mouth once more.

That sent every thought of Natasha flying right out of Steve’s head, along with thoughts of anything other than the sensation of Bucky’s warm mouth. He’d been hesitant at first to invite Bucky over to his tower apartment after they’d finished with dinner. He wasn’t a moron, nightcaps had still been thin excuses back in his day, too. But he’d just been so reluctant to say goodnight to Bucky, with his piercing blue eyes and quick smile and soft wavy hair that Steve wanted to bury his hands in…

All hesitance was gone now as Steve followed exactly that urge. He neither pushed nor pulled at Bucky’s head as he bobbed, just tangled his fingers in those shoulder length strands and let Bucky play him like an instrument. He’d been at it for a while already, and Steve was fairly certain he would have lost it within the first 30 seconds if it hadn’t been for the serum.  _ God bless Erskine. _

Supersoldier stamina or no supersoldier stamina, Steve wasn’t going to last much longer with Bucky’s cheeks hollowed out like that. One of Bucky’s hands was gripping Steve’s thigh, thumb pressing into the muscle hard enough that it might even bruise for a few minutes. The other hand was sliding up Steve’s torso, hungrily, seeking until it found an already-hard nipple to tweak playfully.

“Bucky, I’m close,” Steve huffed, not sure whether it was a warning or a plea. Bucky’s eyes flicked up to his again, and this time when their gazes met Steve felt a rush of pleasure that almost knocked the breath right out of him.

Bucky was a vision, lips a dark pink and eyes sharp and focused, voice husky as he let Steve’s cock slide from his mouth to ask, “What can I do for you, Stevie?”

“Get up here,” Steve gasped, and now he was tugging on Bucky’s hair just a little, leading him up Steve’s body until Bucky was straddling his hips. He traced his hands down Bucky’s sides until they met at the front of his jeans. Steve had managed to get the button and zipper open earlier but hadn’t gotten rid of the material before Bucky had slithered out of his grasp and trailed south to set Steve’s mind to spinning. He traced a gentle palm against the length of Bucky through the denim now. “Can I?”

“You can do whatever the hell you want,” Bucky panted, hips twitching forward to seek contact.

Steve almost argued with the phrasing --that was  _ not _ how consent worked-- but he had better things to do. He pushed Bucky’s jeans and briefs down as much as possible without Bucky having to leave his lap, since more distance between their bodies was the last thing Steve wanted. “I should tell you, this is my first time doing anything with a man,” he murmured as he wrapped his hand around Bucky and gave him a firm stroke.

Bucky’s hips jerked forward to chase Steve’s hands, his eyes shut as he groaned. “Thanks for that. Like I wasn’t already about to shoot off like a teenager, now you put the knowledge that I’m your  _ first _ in my head.”

It took Steve a minute to parse out whether that sentence had been a complaint or a compliment, but then he stroked Bucky faster as determination sparked in his belly. “I wanna make you come,” he said into the curve of Bucky’s throat. “I wanna make you feel good. Tell me what you need.”

A few nonsense syllables that could have been gibberish fell out of Bucky’s mouth, then he licked his lips and moaned, “Just keep doing exactly that. And kiss me, fuck. I wanna kiss you, Steve.”

Bucky held on tight to Steve’s shoulders and rocked his hips with the motion of Steve’s hand on him as Steve obliged. He pulled Bucky’s mouth down to his by his hand in Bucky’s hair and held him there, kissing Bucky harder every time he came up for air, his hand working quickly between them as Bucky’s movements became less coordinated and more desperate.

The way that Bucky’s teeth bit into Steve’s lower lip was all the warning he got before Bucky’s back arched spectacularly and he was coming in Steve’s grip, uttering a sound that would almost have been a sob if it hadn’t been accompanied by a face of such pure pleasure.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky groaned, one hand dropping to wrap around Steve’s like he was afraid he would let go. Steve wouldn’t dream of it. He kept stroking until the half-aborted little thrusts of Bucky’s hips trailed off and he came to a rest with his forehead pressed against Steve’s.

He didn’t rest for long, though. Bucky had barely caught his breath when he moved his hand to Steve’s still-hard cock, his grip slicked by the mess Bucky’s come had made where their torsos were pressed close. He trailed his mouth along Steve’s jawline as he stroked, until he was nipping gently at Steve’s earlobe.

“Next time,” Bucky murmured lowly, and Steve’s stomach twisted at the gravelly tone of it, “I want you inside of me. And if that goddamn phone interrupts, I’m throwing it out of the window.”

Steve laughed, then moaned, then came in Bucky’s grasp. Those were terms he could readily agree to.


End file.
